Wanna be in my film?

Why do so many people suddenly want to make their own movie? Sacha Molitorisz investigates the Tropfest-inspired phenomenon gripping Sydney.

Theo Kavieris is a physiotherapist with an expensive, debilitating addiction. "I had a moment last year when I questioned whether I was just another middle-class guy buying into a fad," says Kavieris. "But in the end I decided no, I've been into this for a long time."

His addiction? Filmmaking, an ailment that, in Sydney, is becoming disturbingly common. In darkened rooms all over town, physiotherapists, waiters and even some film school graduates are testing the limits of their friendships and credit cards by making shorts, features and docos.

In other words, Sydney is in the midst of a filmmaking plague of Cecil B. proportions, as revealed by the growth of Tropfest.

In 1993, the inaugural Tropfest screened only one film - made by a certain John Polson - to an audience of a few dozen in the Tropicana Cafe in Kings Cross. By 1997 there were 196 entries, of which the finalists were seen by 16,000 film fans. Last year, the best of 611 entries were seen by 118,000 viewers.

This year the 11th Tropfest was inundated with 723 shorts - more than Lleyton Hewitt would need in a year. As Polson, the Tropfest founder and creative director, says: "This year's record number of entries is an indication of just how accessible short filmmaking has become."

Polson is right, and Kavieris is proof. Kavieris's first film, The Family Jewels, was one of this year's entries.

"One of the things that motivated me was seeing Billy Elliot," Kavieris says. "That's about following your passion. I was moved by that and just thought, 'What the hell, I'll dip my toe in, and see what happens.' So I dipped my toe, and I was quickly sucked under," he says, laughing. "Making a short is not for the faint-hearted."

Unfortunately, after seven rewrites and about 2000 hours of labour contributed by 28 people, The Family Jewels did not make the final 16.

"Still, now I'm addicted," says Kavieris.

The question is: why? Why are so many seemingly well-adjusted Sydneysiders suddenly addicted to filmmaking?

Gary Eck, a stand-up comedian for 11 years, thinks he knows the answer.

"Before I started doing stand-up I always thought, 'Wow, wouldn't it be great to do a film?' Not, 'Wow, wouldn't it be great to do stand-up?'" In other words, it's been a lifelong dream.

After making a short called The Cookie, Eck had Tropfest success last year with his second film, Tragic Love, which reached the final 16. It was a comedy, in which Eck (playing himself) approaches stars, including Keanu Reeves, Arnie Schwarzenegger and Russell Crowe, to act in his movie. Tragic Love was a crowd favourite.

"It's funny how my friends were after that," says Eck. "They were like, 'Oh, Gary got one in, I better have a go.'"

Shortly before making Tragic Love, Eck and fellow comedians Anthony Mir and Akmal Saleh shot a feature-length comedy called You Can't Stop the Murders, which will be released next month.

"I think one reason so many people are making films is because it's easy these days," he says. "You can get a decent camera, and you can even edit on the camera, so it's very accessible."

Christopher Robin Collins agrees, but argues that accessibility isn't always a good thing. A veteran director of shorts, TV programs and music videos (he was one of the makers of the Clash's famous London Calling clip), Collins also runs a DIY filmmaking course at Fox Studios.

"I ask people why they want to make films at my course. And I got this perfect answer one time: 'So I can pull more chicks,'" says Collins.

"I think people just think it's fun to make films. And one thing I find really interesting is that I ask people what they want to make films about, and they often say, 'I dunno'. They don't have anything in particular to say.

"And that carries through, because in so many films there is no real idea, no passion, they're not coming from a place of substance.

"An analogy I use is that, in the '80s, people suddenly discovered synthesisers, where they could just press buttons and make music. But often what came out was totally derivative, and that's a little bit the same now with film.

"Since Tarantino, it's become cool to be a filmmaker. We have better technology now, but not necessarily more talent."

Once upon a time, you could always recognise the filmmakers on set - they were the ones wearing black. Now the rule no longer holds, because filmmaking itself is the new black.

Once upon a time, the only glamorous spot on a film set was in front of the camera; now even the world's biggest stars are leaving the limelight to step behind the viewfinder.

Rachel Griffiths has directed two shorts called Tulip (1998) and Roundabout (2002) and Russell Crowe has made Texas (2002), a documentary about his band. Tom Hanks has directed TV episodes for Band of Brothers and the feature That Thing You Do! (1996). Kevin Spacey, Steve Buscemi, Jodie Foster, Mel Gibson and Ed Harris have all directed features, and George Clooney's directing debut, Confessions of a Dangerous Mind, opens in Australia in April.

Emma Freeman, who won Tropfest last year with her film Lamb, says accessibility isn't the only reason filmmaking is so popular.

"I think we all tell stories - that's just a part of life and living - and film is one of most evocative ways of telling stories," Freeman says. "I think a lot of people are really attracted to the medium, and now there are film festivals cropping up everywhere, which is a good thing. It would be terrible if all these films being made just went into a box and under someone's bed."

Encouragingly, Kavieris's The Family Jewels won't disappear under his bed. It won't screen at Tropfest, but it will screen for charity at Red Carpet Night at the Valhalla on Sunday, March 9, at 7pm.

This is despite a momentary crisis of confidence on Kavieris's part.

"That struck me while I was about to hand over $6000 for a piece of equipment," he says. "I suddenly thought, 'Theo, what are you doing?' That was a soul-searching moment.

"I think to make films you need to have a lot of spiritual resilience. Or maybe just bloody-mindedness.

"I've had my eyes opened. I know now that filmmaking is very, very hard to make a living out of, and that the competition is pretty stiff. But from a hobby point of view, I love it, and if it turns out I have talent, who knows? I might go on to make a living out of it after all."

Cheap shots

With the revolution in digital technology, you can make a film with as little as $3000.

To keep costs to a minimum, use a digital camera, transfer the data to a PC for editing, then burn your creation to DVD or CD.

Modern digital video cameras, or digicams, start at less than $1500.

Apple computers have editing packages and firewire ports - to transfer the images from camera to computer. Its basic iMac costs $1495; its eMac, with CD/DVD burner, costs $2695.

To turn a PC into a basic movie studio, you need editing software and a firewire card, which costs about $250.

Some digicams have basic editing software and Microsoft now includes Windows Movie Maker with Windows XP.